


tomorrow,

by Wingsofwax



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Death, DESCRIPTIONS OF MAIN CHARACTER DEATH AND SUICIDE PLUS MENTAL ILLNESS ISSUES, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, ILY, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt, be safe, please read at your own risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:41:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingsofwax/pseuds/Wingsofwax
Summary: ---“George--” Dream pleaded, walking up to the barrier, hands resting on it, “please...please talk to me... I need you, George.” His pleading continued, further shattering his broken heart. “Please..please…” the plea rang in his mind long after he’d returned to the welcoming darkness of his home.---
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 50





	tomorrow,

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING;  
> This work has vivid descriptions of violence, mental illness, suicide, and other topics that may be potentially triggering to some, read at your own risk...on that note, enjoy :).

Dying...that task was...not a fun one. Far from, really. It had been slow, excruciating...yet somehow, the emotional endeavors a mere hour or so earlier had felt worse. Death...well it felt like a relief at that point. No more pain.

…

It was easy to lie. Not so much to others...but to yourself. The brain was a cruel, gullible thing. Tell it something enough and it’ll accept it as truth. As long as the “truth” hurts less than the reality. The process was something George had learned to adopt...to ignore just how far his lover was slipping from him. To support his actions, no matter who got hurt in the process, following him like a dog, blind and stupid, losing friends, family, and himself along the way. He’d clung helplessly to the memories before any factions had been established, before war and before violence...before manipulation...sorrow. There had come a point, however, where he could no longer twist lies into truth, where he was forced to untangle from the comfortable web of lies he’d spun around himself. And even worse….when that time came--he had no one.

Light filtered just barely through cracks in the wooden shutters. An annoying beam teased George’s eyelids, prompting him awake with a soft sigh from cracked lips. Shivering, he pulled the covers back up and over his head, shutting out the pitiful golden ray. His eyes closed and he begged sleep to consume him once more, reaching desperately for the comforting numbness that dreamless slumber brought him. _Tik….tik...tik….tik.._.the shattered clock that was stuck on 7’oclock ticked its way through his subconscious, making him grind his teeth together, hands clamping over his ears.

Ten minutes crawled by and sleep remained far from his reach. Growling his frustrations he stood, unfurling from the ball he’d curled into. He was greeted once more by the drone of the clock on the floor. His gaze turned sharply and before his impulse control could kick in he’d lifted a foot and slammed it into the clock, stomping over and over again, the glass and plastic crunching under his foot until the only sound that broke through the silence was his labored breathing. George rubbed at his eyes, stumbling slightly and leaning against the wall, feeling a familiar pain build up in his chest. Glancing over at the bed, he’d noticed it remained empty...as it had been for three months. And even longer before that. Dream had stopped being a warmth in his bed long before he’d been locked up.

 _“You can always visit him, George._ ” Sam had said to him, a hand resting on his shoulder, a gesture that was supposed to be comforting feeling nothing short of mocking. Everywhere he went he felt it--the blame, the judgment as if he could have ever stopped Dream. _You could have._ He shook his head against the thoughts, rubbing at his temples.

He hadn’t visited him yet...it had been a thought that had been plaguing every second of his waking consciousness. George constantly told himself that he wasn’t ready to see him...though he’d slowly been coming to the realization that he merely wasn’t ready to face his own guilt. He took in a deep sigh, looking up from the cracked stone floor, glaring at the heavy iron door that separated him from the outside world...from people who he once loved as brothers. _You can’t run from him forever. Put an end to it._ Tugging at his hair, he felt hot tears of frustration stinging his cheeks. He reached for the door. _Do it._

…

The prison stood tall, glaring down at him, the entrance, a dark gaping mouth, beckoned to him.

“George..?” A soft voice startled him, his eyes widening as he turned. Sam...of course, it was Sam..who else would it be. He’d almost convinced himself it was…

“Sam...hey,” he struggled to vocalize, his voice rough from months of misuse. For a minute that felt like painful years, Sam seemed to stare at George, his brows furrowed and pity clear over his expression. George was well aware how he looked; dark purple bags accenting his once alive eyes, skin a sickly pale, his hair overgrown, greasy...and yet that pity merely made his gaze harden and turn his head to the side, clamping his teeth down on his tongue.

“Hello..” Sam started, seeming to be at a loss for words, “Uhm..are you here to…” another pause, “...visit..?”

No. Not yet. “Yes.”

Sam nodded, hesitantly, blinking a few times before he’d cleared his throat and made a small motion with his hand, “Just follow me through,” he offered an unsteady smile that was returned with an emotionless gaze.

…

Getting through the prison had certainly been a task. It had taken almost the sum of an hour and it certainly had been annoying. But at last, he stood in front of him.

“...George-” A soft gasp followed and the quick scuttling of feet as Dream stood quickly from his bed, his brows furrowed. “You...I didn’t--you came-” he breathed, reaching for him. George bit his lip and took a step away from his touch, raising his head to the side, staring at the obsidian walls. Pausing, Dream let his hand rest at his side once more, pain seeming to ripple across his expression. “I missed you,” the whisper broke through the painful silence. His voice was strangled and George knew without looking that tears rimmed his eyes. What had he wanted from the impulse visit...what was he expecting to gain except more pain? George shook his head, running his tongue over dry lips and glaring at the wall.

“Sam,” George whispered, taking a few steps back and letting the wall rise between them once more, hearing the lava starting to recede.

“George--” Dream pleaded, walking up to the barrier, hands resting on it, “please...please talk to me... _I need you, George.”_ His pleading continued, further shattering his broken heart. “Please..please…” the plea rang in his mind long after he’d returned to the welcoming darkness of his home.

…

Sunlight filtered lazily through the tree canopy above, the murmur of the wind and the soft buzz of insects swirled through the air, brushing up against their ears. They lie on the ground, heads tilted up to stare at the endless expanse of cloudless sky. He felt eyes on him before he turned to look. “What?” he asked softly with a small smile, meeting grey-blue eyes.

Dream laughed softly, shaking his head, “Nothing,” he returned his gaze to the sky.  
George furrowed his brows and raised himself onto his elbows, “C’mon,” he drew out, whining, “what is it? You’ve got _something_ on your mind,” he pointed out with a small huff. Dream let out another soft laugh, closing his eyes and humming his content as the sunbeams brushed across his eyelids. The sight brought George’s breath to a stop, vision trailing the golden glow against Dream’s sun-kissed, unmarred skin. His cheeks colored as he turned his head to the side, mumbling something under his breath.  
“What was that?” Dream asked, his smirk obvious in his tone, a single eye opened lazily to scan the back of George’s head.  
“You didn’t tell me what you were thinking, why should I tell you what I was?” George replied stubbornly, sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest, keeping his back to Dream.

“Oh don’t be like that~” The purr sent a shiver crawling down his spine, making him bite his lip. He felt hands on his shoulders and heard Dream shifting before he was leaning over the top of him and placing a soft kiss to his nose. “Hm...will you tell me now?” Dream tilted his head, a barely contained smirk playing on his lips.

George huffed, rolling his eyes and swallowing down his grin, “I think you’ll need to persuade me further,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone, averting his gaze to the side.

“I see…” Dream shifted once more and George saw him moving from the corners of his eyes before he sat cross-legged in front of him...and for a second he just seemed to stare, before he leaned close, placing a painfully gentle hand on his cheek. His lips trailed down from his forehead, going slowly and purposefully in a way that made George shift impatiently until he’d finally met his lips. The kiss was teasing, his tongue dancing across the other's lips yet still keeping himself pulled away enough to prevent it from deepening further. George’s hand came up to tangle into Dreams sand-colored locks, his other hand resting against his waist. There was no fight as Dream lowered the two of them to the ground. The passion continued for a few more moments until both of them were breathless. Dream pulled away and brushed a lock of hair from George’s face. “I was thinking about how beautiful you were,” he murmured, his eyes flooded with raw and untamed love for the one beneath him…..

Tears rimmed his eyes as George shot awake, his breath hitched. A hand clung to the fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt, feeling as if someone had stabbed him in the chest. His breathing picked up and became irregular and his other hand tugged at his hair, choked sobs breaking from his lips. The ground seemed to sway beneath him as he forced himself out of bed, stumbling against the wall and sinking down to the ground, his breaths now gasping and strangled whimpers and he buried his head into his hands, screaming with whatever breath he had left. And when he ran out, he’d take a sobbing breath in and scream again...he’d continue until his throat was stripped and his voice cracked to nothing above a whisper. 

The next week came and went, George hardly left the spot next to his bed, staring at a part of the floorboards that had started to rot. It seemed fitting, really...his environment was as rotted as he was. The days all blurred...George wasn’t too sure how long it had been when he’d finally stood, legs trembling like a newborn fawn. _It’s time...you know what you have to do…_

_..._

“You came back..” his voice was hoarse, a scratch against his throat. George nodded, looking to the side, his right hand clamped over his left arm anxiously. “Why…” he paused and cleared his throat, “Why are you acting...afraid..” he asked softly, taking a step closer to Dream, one that, this time, wasn’t avoided or sidestepped.  
George laughed bitterly “You’re a criminal, Dream...you’ve...you’ve killed people,” his voice got tight, “killed our friends-” he finished, tears staining his cheeks.

Dream seemed to falter, brows knitting together and genuine sadness seeming to flood his expression before he stepped closer. He took George’s hands into his, waiting, testing to see how far he could go, before he leaned closer and pressed kisses to his cheeks, tasting the salt of his tears against his tongue. “I never meant any harm,” he mumbled, beginning to pull away, sorrow dripping in his tone. However, his movements were intercepted by George’s arms wrapping around him. _Liar._ George knew his words were lies, he wasn’t stupid, he'd heard them plenty before. But...he'd let that lie go...he'd forgive that lie. 

“I hate you.” He breathed. “I hate you for doing this to me, for leaving me alone...for...for choosing your own agenda over me.” he voice cracked and tears stained Dream’s prison jumper, “I hate you...hate you so, so much--” he sobbed against his shoulder.  
“That’s okay.” Dream responded, slowly returning the embrace, head resting against his shoulder. “I don’t expect your forgiveness...this is all I need.”  
“I won’t...I won’t let you h-hurt anyone...not anymore, Dream,” George shifted his right hand, and before Dream could react a dagger pierced his heart. “I love you…” he breathed, guiding Dream to the floor, flinching at the warmth that stained his shirt. “That’s why I need to do this.” He held tight to him, a hand carding through his hair. He pulled the dagger out and it dropped to the floor with a clatter.(It's worth mentioning it had hardly been an easy task to slip the dagger past Sam's careful watch.) Dream’s grip on him grew tighter while he gasped for air, likely attempting to form words that merely game out as gargled incoherent mumbles...until he fell still. George rocked him, brushing his hands through his hair still.

_“Burning up with the water…”_

George ignored the sirens that sounded out around him,

**_Dream was slain by georgenotfound,_ **

_“The floods are on the plains…the planets in a rose...”_

He smiled as he buried his head into Dream’s hair, breathing in his scent for the last time,

_“Who knows what they contain...my brain is like an orchestra..”_

_  
_ Sam’s shouts reached his ears as the lava started to bubble down

_“Playing on, insane,”_

He stood, placing one last kiss to the side of Dream’s head, walking to the ledge of the lava gap,

  
“ _Will you love me, like you loved me in the January rain?”_

He stepped off the edge.

...

**_georgenotfound tried to swim in lava._ **

The death message flashed across the vision of anyone logged into the world.

 _FIND GEORGE, HE’S ON HIS LAST LIFE._ Followed suit. George looked bitterly at the chat, sighing softly as he rose from his bed, rolling his shoulders and wincing at the aches dying had left his body with.

He’d remember with a bit of relief that he’d reset his spawn point beforehand, glancing around. Yeah...he remembered that area...it brought a bitter smile to his lips as he tipped his head back and tasted the salty air that whispered against his skin. He let out a soft sigh, looking back to the ground and starting off. No one else knew about the place...it was one of the only things that remained just... _theirs._ Though it had been months since he’d been...it hurt too much, before. Now, however, the pain was welcomed, George basked in it, in fact. He let it remind him of his mortality...let himself remember it would be over...forever, soon enough. The ground beneath him gave way to sand, his footsteps requiring more effort, enough so that he was breathless as he finally arrived. He leaned against a wet stone wall, a hand rested over his chest, fingers dancing over every individual rib that he could feel against the fabric of his shirt.  
George was tired...he was so, so tired. But looking up at the rocky outcrop that carved into the mountainside and let water in during high-tide...that seemed to refresh him. The memories, once painful, now reminded him of what had been...and at that moment he felt incredibly grateful for the time he was allowed to have with Dream….as short as it had been. He was thankful he got to see the real side of him before war and insanity lay its selfish claws upon him.

\--

“Dreammmm,” he whined, nuzzling his chest before raising up onto his palms, looking down at Dream, who cocked a brow upwards, squinting up at him.  
“Yes, my love~” his tone never failed to make George pause, his heart stuttering, and his cheeks coloring.

“When will you let me say it,” George huffed, pouting. He’d wanted to say the three words...almost since they had made their relationship official, however, Dream had gone on some rant about wanting ‘the right time.’ George had been growing impatient.

Dream smiled, brushing his hair to the side and tucking it behind his ear before leaning up on his elbows and placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Tomorrow,” he promised, flicking his nose teasingly as he lay back down and closed his eyes.

\--

He sat in the sand, not caring as the day slipped away and the tide slowly began to lick at his shoes, soaking through to his feet and chilling him to the bone. He didn’t care as the temperature began to drop and the wind became harsh...he was waiting.

At last, the sun began to set, he smiled as he stood on numbed limbs, huffing against the tingling sensation….he walked back, making a turn, and this time he climbed up the outcrop that was previously the roof above him. He glanced down at the water below, at the waves that crashed against the sharp, haphazard rocks. The sun seemed to encourage him as it colored the skies with beautiful pastels...like the world was, too, saying its goodbyes to an era of violence. George tilted his head back and though tears stained his cheeks, he smiled. A real smile, one that warmed the chill against his skin. “Until tomorrow,” he whispered to the wind.

  
**... _Georgenotfound hit the ground too hard._**

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for a little while now, I finally decided it was time to put it in words, though I think I hardly did the idea any justice. However, I hope you enjoy this piece of my brain rot, I suppose just let me know if you want more.  
> Also I hardly proof read this, so I apologize for any errors in typing/grammar.


End file.
